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Damage
Damage is the gripping story of a man’s desperate obsession and scandalous love affair. He is a man who appears to have everything: wealth, a beautiful wife and children, and a prestigious political career in Parliament. But his life lacks passion, and his aching emptiness drives him to an all-consuming, and ultimately catastrophic, relationship with his son’s fiancée.
Chilling and brilliant, Damage is a masterpiece—a daring look at the dangers of obsession and the depth of its shattering consequences.
Chilling and brilliant, Damage is a masterpiece—a daring look at the dangers of obsession and the depth of its shattering consequences.
180 pages, ebook
First published January 1, 1991
About the author
Josephine Hart
21 books145 followersJosephine Hart was born and educated in Ireland. She was a director of Haymarket Publishing, in London, before going on to produce a number of West End plays, including The House of Bernarda Alba by Frederico Garcia Lorea, The Vortex by Noel Coward, and The Black Prince by Iris Murdoch. She was married to Maurice Saatchi and had two sons. She was the author of Damage. Hart died, aged 69, of ovarian cancer in June 2011.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 849 reviews
June 7, 2023
“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.”
Josephine Hart "Damage".
Damage is a novella. It is a short terse sizzling little gem of a book about betrayal, passion and what happens when your one wrong choice causes your life to go out of control.
The main character in this book has always tried to do the right thing. He is a serious straight laced man He's a A loving father and a devoted husband and he is happy in his somewhat sterile but pleasant marriage.
All that ends when his son brings home a new girlfriend. The narrators falls madly in love with her, actually madly in obsession with her I should say, a triggering a tragic turn of events for all concerned.
This short little book packs so much intensity it is astonishing. I first read it many years ago. It stands in my top ten for best books ever.
Damage is Shakespearean in nature, and the drama that plays out in the pages is impossible to turn away from. One knows, instinctively from the start, this is not going to turn out well and you may feel like shouting a warning through the pages. But our main character's only chance is to follow the words of the quote from the book:
"Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive".
Damage is best read in one sitting and is short enough so that, if that is what you want to do, it can easily be done.
The subject has been done before but not quite in this way it is here. The author, Josephine Hart, is an amazing writer. She was a poet as well which explains the amazing writing. I have read one of her other books, Sin, dealing with the subject of Envy and while it is good but I think Damage is better.
For the record..this book was made into a film but I'd skip it..the book is much much better.
So five intense unforgettable stars from me for a book you will be thinking about YEARS after you turn the final page.
Josephine Hart "Damage".
Damage is a novella. It is a short terse sizzling little gem of a book about betrayal, passion and what happens when your one wrong choice causes your life to go out of control.
The main character in this book has always tried to do the right thing. He is a serious straight laced man He's a A loving father and a devoted husband and he is happy in his somewhat sterile but pleasant marriage.
All that ends when his son brings home a new girlfriend. The narrators falls madly in love with her, actually madly in obsession with her I should say, a triggering a tragic turn of events for all concerned.
This short little book packs so much intensity it is astonishing. I first read it many years ago. It stands in my top ten for best books ever.
Damage is Shakespearean in nature, and the drama that plays out in the pages is impossible to turn away from. One knows, instinctively from the start, this is not going to turn out well and you may feel like shouting a warning through the pages. But our main character's only chance is to follow the words of the quote from the book:
"Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive".
Damage is best read in one sitting and is short enough so that, if that is what you want to do, it can easily be done.
The subject has been done before but not quite in this way it is here. The author, Josephine Hart, is an amazing writer. She was a poet as well which explains the amazing writing. I have read one of her other books, Sin, dealing with the subject of Envy and while it is good but I think Damage is better.
For the record..this book was made into a film but I'd skip it..the book is much much better.
So five intense unforgettable stars from me for a book you will be thinking about YEARS after you turn the final page.
September 11, 2019
A seemingly happily married man who has it all enters into an illicit affair with his sons girlfriend and becomes obsessed with having and keeping her. This affair will be the ruin of all of them.
I'm really torn on this book. While I liked the idea of the story I found the writing to be overly pretentious and it made this book a bit boring if you ask me. All the highbrow, intellectual back and forth does nothing for me. Also, I found the relationship between the father and Anna completely cold. Utterly passionless. The sex scenes while not long in description (thankfully) seemed perverted rather than erotic. I could not see or find any reason as to why this man would throw his life away for such an unremarkable woman.
"Sometimes her limbs locked, impossibly angled, as on a rack of my imagination, stoically she bore my weight."
Uh, what?
THAT ENDING, though. Wowza! I have got to add another star for that. 3 stars!
I'm really torn on this book. While I liked the idea of the story I found the writing to be overly pretentious and it made this book a bit boring if you ask me. All the highbrow, intellectual back and forth does nothing for me. Also, I found the relationship between the father and Anna completely cold. Utterly passionless. The sex scenes while not long in description (thankfully) seemed perverted rather than erotic. I could not see or find any reason as to why this man would throw his life away for such an unremarkable woman.
"Sometimes her limbs locked, impossibly angled, as on a rack of my imagination, stoically she bore my weight."
Uh, what?
THAT ENDING, though. Wowza! I have got to add another star for that. 3 stars!
August 21, 2012
Oh good gravy.
Let's start with the facts.
Fact: This book is VERY well written.
Fact: It is also VERY short, which allowed for me to read it in its entirety in under 3 hours.
Fact: Symbolism runs rampant, which I love.
Fact: Damage is an excellent title and describes perfectly what happens when obsession overrides sanity. Or, in the eyes of our MC, what happens when one finally finds "passion." (passion= being a man whore pyscho....but whatever. Also, this fact is turning into an opinion....)
Opinion: This book was waaaaaaay too heavy for moi.
I had a very difficult time stomaching the general premise, which I don't think gives too much away---dad has sorid, ridiculous affair with son's fiancé. Wow. WOW. wow.
The end of the book is completely shocking. The middle of the book is completely shocking, Heck, the beginning of the book is shocking. I remained shocked throughout the duration of this text.
The best way I can describe the process of reading this book is via analogy. You climb up the ladder to a very tall slide at the playground. You sit down at the top, so excited by what all of your friends have said about the amazing ride down the slide. Right as you begin to shift your weight to set your journey in motion, you glimpse at this piece of equipment. What you once thought was a harmless little ride is actually full of obstacles and danger. The slide is greased. It has sharp corners. And it goes down infinitely farther than you thought possible, or were ever willing to go. But what's done is done--you shifted your weight, and now you've gotta ride it all the way to the bottom, however thrilling and terrifying that ride may be.
I know that is long-winded, but that is how I felt---truly, as I read this story.
It is a piece of art, but I had to rate it 3 stars due to the disturbance it caused me.
Let's start with the facts.
Fact: This book is VERY well written.
Fact: It is also VERY short, which allowed for me to read it in its entirety in under 3 hours.
Fact: Symbolism runs rampant, which I love.
Fact: Damage is an excellent title and describes perfectly what happens when obsession overrides sanity. Or, in the eyes of our MC, what happens when one finally finds "passion." (passion= being a man whore pyscho....but whatever. Also, this fact is turning into an opinion....)
Opinion: This book was waaaaaaay too heavy for moi.
I had a very difficult time stomaching the general premise, which I don't think gives too much away---dad has sorid, ridiculous affair with son's fiancé. Wow. WOW. wow.
The end of the book is completely shocking. The middle of the book is completely shocking, Heck, the beginning of the book is shocking. I remained shocked throughout the duration of this text.
The best way I can describe the process of reading this book is via analogy. You climb up the ladder to a very tall slide at the playground. You sit down at the top, so excited by what all of your friends have said about the amazing ride down the slide. Right as you begin to shift your weight to set your journey in motion, you glimpse at this piece of equipment. What you once thought was a harmless little ride is actually full of obstacles and danger. The slide is greased. It has sharp corners. And it goes down infinitely farther than you thought possible, or were ever willing to go. But what's done is done--you shifted your weight, and now you've gotta ride it all the way to the bottom, however thrilling and terrifying that ride may be.
I know that is long-winded, but that is how I felt---truly, as I read this story.
It is a piece of art, but I had to rate it 3 stars due to the disturbance it caused me.
September 19, 2019
Damage is very smartly-written and effective in arousing curiosity in readers, leading us to question the characters’ self-destructive actions.
A beautiful couple, Roger and Ingrid had it all. A successful marriage and careers, beautiful grown children, and plenty of money.
Yet as a father, Roger fell short. He had always felt distant from his children. He and Ingrid were friends more than lovers in their less than passionate marriage. Likewise, Roger felt no compensating joy or passion for his career.
However, when Roger’s eyes met Anna’s for the first time, sparks flew.. In each other, they instantly feel sexual attraction, in the form of extreme weakness and need for each other, due to a mutual brokenness they recognize in each other, a pain they carry from from childhood.
Anna has a history of using sexual pleasure to transcend emotional pain. Roger wants to transcend pain and feel alive again. He quickly develops an erotic obsession for Anna, and wants to possess her for the rest of his life. His pain manifests as an emotionless family life and existence, a feeling that he is not really living, while Anna feels pain and guilt over having lost her brother to suicide.
Anna is a sex addict and Roger is a love addict. The guilty but unrepentant pair Roger and Anna are not only dangerously self-destructive, their reckless hookups stand to shatter the hearts of loved ones....for Anna’s new fiancée is Martyn, son of Roger and Ingrid.
A beautiful couple, Roger and Ingrid had it all. A successful marriage and careers, beautiful grown children, and plenty of money.
Yet as a father, Roger fell short. He had always felt distant from his children. He and Ingrid were friends more than lovers in their less than passionate marriage. Likewise, Roger felt no compensating joy or passion for his career.
However, when Roger’s eyes met Anna’s for the first time, sparks flew.. In each other, they instantly feel sexual attraction, in the form of extreme weakness and need for each other, due to a mutual brokenness they recognize in each other, a pain they carry from from childhood.
Anna has a history of using sexual pleasure to transcend emotional pain. Roger wants to transcend pain and feel alive again. He quickly develops an erotic obsession for Anna, and wants to possess her for the rest of his life. His pain manifests as an emotionless family life and existence, a feeling that he is not really living, while Anna feels pain and guilt over having lost her brother to suicide.
Anna is a sex addict and Roger is a love addict. The guilty but unrepentant pair Roger and Anna are not only dangerously self-destructive, their reckless hookups stand to shatter the hearts of loved ones....for Anna’s new fiancée is Martyn, son of Roger and Ingrid.
March 8, 2009
Excerpt:
"And round every meeting with her spun a ribbon of certainty that my life had already ended. It had ended in the split second of my first sight of her.
It was time out of life. Like an acid it ran through all the years behind me, burning and destroying."
I ate this book for lunch. Delicious.
"And round every meeting with her spun a ribbon of certainty that my life had already ended. It had ended in the split second of my first sight of her.
It was time out of life. Like an acid it ran through all the years behind me, burning and destroying."
I ate this book for lunch. Delicious.
August 5, 2016
***5 " MESMERIZINGLY DAMAGED" STARS***
"There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for the outlines all of our lives"
This is the story of a man, whom appears to have the dream life.. ..wealth, intelligence, power, successful marriage, prestige. So why does he spend countless hours wondering....Why he is so unhappy? How someone that appears to have it all, can feel so empty? When did he lose control of his life? And most i mportantly, why does he feel dead inside? .....
"In my life, I have travelled far, acquiring loved and unfamiliar companions; a wife, an son, and a daughter. I have lived with them, an loving alien in surrounds of unsatisfying beauty. An efficient dissembler, I gently and silently smoothed the rough edges of my being. I hid the awkwardness and pain which I inclined towards my chosen outline, and tried to be what those loved expected me to be- a good husband, a good father, and a good son."
Some readers may be put off by Damage as the storyline revolves around Dr. Stephen Fleming's passionate and TABOO love affair with a damaged younger woman. I normally don't read stories that deal with adultery, as they tend to piss me off. Josephine Hart poetic writing depicts a love affair that was so brilliantly flawed, I was completely spellbound.
While the story centers around the twosomes erotic affair, in my humble opinion, it is not the focal point of the story. Dr. Fleming's thoughts, emotions and acknowledgements of his actoins , had me transfixed from page 1 to THE END.
“At least I am certain of the truth now.’
For those of you who doubt it — this is a love story.
It is over.
Others may be luckier.
I wish them well.”
Friends, I wish I could tell you more, but I do not wish to spoil the story for anyone .. Please do yourself a favor, if you can tolerate adultery, jump into this story blindly.
For more reviews, Free E-books and Giveaways
"There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for the outlines all of our lives"
This is the story of a man, whom appears to have the dream life.. ..wealth, intelligence, power, successful marriage, prestige. So why does he spend countless hours wondering....Why he is so unhappy? How someone that appears to have it all, can feel so empty? When did he lose control of his life? And most i mportantly, why does he feel dead inside? .....
"In my life, I have travelled far, acquiring loved and unfamiliar companions; a wife, an son, and a daughter. I have lived with them, an loving alien in surrounds of unsatisfying beauty. An efficient dissembler, I gently and silently smoothed the rough edges of my being. I hid the awkwardness and pain which I inclined towards my chosen outline, and tried to be what those loved expected me to be- a good husband, a good father, and a good son."
Some readers may be put off by Damage as the storyline revolves around Dr. Stephen Fleming's passionate and TABOO love affair with a damaged younger woman. I normally don't read stories that deal with adultery, as they tend to piss me off. Josephine Hart poetic writing depicts a love affair that was so brilliantly flawed, I was completely spellbound.
While the story centers around the twosomes erotic affair, in my humble opinion, it is not the focal point of the story. Dr. Fleming's thoughts, emotions and acknowledgements of his actoins , had me transfixed from page 1 to THE END.
“At least I am certain of the truth now.’
For those of you who doubt it — this is a love story.
It is over.
Others may be luckier.
I wish them well.”
Friends, I wish I could tell you more, but I do not wish to spoil the story for anyone .. Please do yourself a favor, if you can tolerate adultery, jump into this story blindly.
For more reviews, Free E-books and Giveaways
May 20, 2017
I felt like I was engaged in a long, drawn-out battle of fisticuffs with this novel; with my opponent being an otherwise placid Englishman lecturing me properly on the sporting necessity of the Marquess of Queensberry rules as he jabbed me almost apologetically with knuckles pointed upward and outward and cloaked in dainty boxing gloves; his endurance greater than mine as he slowly but surely battered my face to a pulp in patient, cumulative, and ultimately devastating fashion.
The novel is populated by boringly correct English types who seem almost parodically perfect, civil and discreet. Their world is slowly and quietly devastated by the entrance into it of an almost blameless femme fatale, a damaged girl harboring a terrible secret so corrosive that it seems to destroy all she touches, though the recipients of her attentions fail to see -- or do see and ignore -- the inevitably painful consequences. The story is told from the perspective of a genteel middle-aged Englishman, Dr. Stephen Fleming, a physician and member of Parliament, who willingly constructs an alternate reality to justify his obsessive affair with her. As she happens to be the fiancee of his own son, the deception takes on particularly disturbing aspects.
The first chapter of this novel is one of the most perfect in English literature. It's really quite amazing, and there are passages throughout that are nearly as good. The novel is perhaps not perfect as a whole, and one sometimes becomes irritated at the "oh aren't we so frightfully correct and conventional" self observational conversations spouted by the characters as a sort of authorial shorthand. On the other hand, the way the novel simmers under its lid and slowly uncoils itself to render its death bite is quite masterly. And there is much sigh-inducing gorgeousness in Hart's prose. It's a sad tale, part Ford Madox Ford's The Good Soldier, part Nabokov's Lolita in its forbidden (age-gap, but not pedophilic) love, deception and existence of a peripheral character with a mysterious pull, and probably several other novels I'm missing. The most tragic figure in the story is probably Fleming's wife, Ingrid, decent and guileless, and thus eminently destroyable.
The book is about the reality of what people think and how they feel while they wear their false public masks, as well as the profound concern of never really living until death takes them. There's nothing particularly new in this or in the novel's framework of deceptive relationships, but Hart brings her own expressive ingenuity to the material. It's a spare work; thoughtful and haunting. Because the story is told entirely from Fleming's POV, we see what is most important to him, so the surface of his everyday life -- his career and other aspects -- are glossed over in only a few sentences. This is authorial prerogative, and oftentimes this lack of ancillary detail can make a novel seem frivolous, but here the issues are explored with such brooding intensity and insight that such details would merely impede the flow and dilute the novel's imperatives.
As I say, I fought with this book. At times I found myself bored and frustrated by the characters and their impossible stiff-upper-lipped orderliness; sometimes put off by the occasional cliche or passage of melodramatic dialogue. But the book over its course continually brought me back into the fold, and by the end it persuaded me; reminding us that no amount of social structure can ever truly contain the lizard brain.
This book was made into a good film in 1992, starring Jeremy Irons, and it's probably his presence in that which reminded me of Lolita, as he appeared in the excellent remake of that film as well.
I might be overrating this by at least a star, but I thought the book was ultimately powerful, rewarding and recommendable. It is a book for lovers of literature.
The novel is populated by boringly correct English types who seem almost parodically perfect, civil and discreet. Their world is slowly and quietly devastated by the entrance into it of an almost blameless femme fatale, a damaged girl harboring a terrible secret so corrosive that it seems to destroy all she touches, though the recipients of her attentions fail to see -- or do see and ignore -- the inevitably painful consequences. The story is told from the perspective of a genteel middle-aged Englishman, Dr. Stephen Fleming, a physician and member of Parliament, who willingly constructs an alternate reality to justify his obsessive affair with her. As she happens to be the fiancee of his own son, the deception takes on particularly disturbing aspects.
The first chapter of this novel is one of the most perfect in English literature. It's really quite amazing, and there are passages throughout that are nearly as good. The novel is perhaps not perfect as a whole, and one sometimes becomes irritated at the "oh aren't we so frightfully correct and conventional" self observational conversations spouted by the characters as a sort of authorial shorthand. On the other hand, the way the novel simmers under its lid and slowly uncoils itself to render its death bite is quite masterly. And there is much sigh-inducing gorgeousness in Hart's prose. It's a sad tale, part Ford Madox Ford's The Good Soldier, part Nabokov's Lolita in its forbidden (age-gap, but not pedophilic) love, deception and existence of a peripheral character with a mysterious pull, and probably several other novels I'm missing. The most tragic figure in the story is probably Fleming's wife, Ingrid, decent and guileless, and thus eminently destroyable.
The book is about the reality of what people think and how they feel while they wear their false public masks, as well as the profound concern of never really living until death takes them. There's nothing particularly new in this or in the novel's framework of deceptive relationships, but Hart brings her own expressive ingenuity to the material. It's a spare work; thoughtful and haunting. Because the story is told entirely from Fleming's POV, we see what is most important to him, so the surface of his everyday life -- his career and other aspects -- are glossed over in only a few sentences. This is authorial prerogative, and oftentimes this lack of ancillary detail can make a novel seem frivolous, but here the issues are explored with such brooding intensity and insight that such details would merely impede the flow and dilute the novel's imperatives.
As I say, I fought with this book. At times I found myself bored and frustrated by the characters and their impossible stiff-upper-lipped orderliness; sometimes put off by the occasional cliche or passage of melodramatic dialogue. But the book over its course continually brought me back into the fold, and by the end it persuaded me; reminding us that no amount of social structure can ever truly contain the lizard brain.
This book was made into a good film in 1992, starring Jeremy Irons, and it's probably his presence in that which reminded me of Lolita, as he appeared in the excellent remake of that film as well.
I might be overrating this by at least a star, but I thought the book was ultimately powerful, rewarding and recommendable. It is a book for lovers of literature.
April 23, 2011
Bullshit. Absorbing enough as a read, but utter bullshit. The whole 'undermining respectable middle class life' is so cliche. Goodness. 'One hasn't lived life by following some social template'. This has been done to death and this book is one of the more pathetic attempts to get that idea across. I found the prose corny. Apparently I was supposed to get all excited over the 'poetic' parts of this book but -- I'm sorry -- I've read MUCH better writers. Josephine Hart is a hack. She's not just a hack, she's a pretentious hack. I didn't like Winterson's Written on the Body but I had to admit the book was clever + the poetic parts were quite well-written. I cannot say the same of this book. The lousy half-understood Freuian references, the half-baked Oedipal complexes, the mawkish sentimentality, the unceasing self-satisfied intellectual pompousness.... all in all a zinger. Horrible. I got this on sale for $5 but it's worth nothing. I regret having bought it.
March 6, 2011
I absolutely loved the opening line of this novel. "There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for its outlines all our lives." It goes on to say "Those who are lucky enough to find it ease like water over a stone, onto its fluid contours and are home... An efficient dissembler, I gently and silently smoothed the rough edges of my being. I hid the awkwardness and pain with which I inclined toward my chosen outline, and tried to be what those I loved expected me to be."
Truly magnificent writing. I saw the film version, gosh, can it be nearly 20 years ago now? It still haunts me, as no doubt will the tragedy of this tale in the written form. I found myself, in the beginning, increasingly uncomfortable as I read. That kind of power which an author holds over me is rare.
Truly magnificent writing. I saw the film version, gosh, can it be nearly 20 years ago now? It still haunts me, as no doubt will the tragedy of this tale in the written form. I found myself, in the beginning, increasingly uncomfortable as I read. That kind of power which an author holds over me is rare.
February 20, 2013
Già. Quello che ho subito io chi me lo risarcisce?
Questa non è una historia de amor, de locura y de muerte bensì una presa per i fondelli.
Non c'è verosimiglianza, non c'è profondità, non c'è erotismo, assenti i sentimenti.
La distanza da un pornazzo è minima.
Suspence, questa sconosciuta: si scopre tutto subito. Binomio scopereccio inserito fra parentesi tonde all'interno di una espressione assai complessa. Lei è la schiava: rivoltata, ripassata e ricomposta come e meglio della cicorietta in padella.
Lui, esempio preclaro di homo politically correct, de repente si trova i lombi arsi dal fuoco della passione, è pronto a gettare alle ortiche carriera politica, matrimonio, prole, incurante del fatto che il suo figghiolo - bellissimo e intelligentissimo comme il faut - voglia sposare la conturbante donzella.
Sembrerebbe una storia a tinte molto forti. Si vorrebbe che lo fosse.
La serva, del tutto prona ai voleri del suo signore, parafrasando la famosa "Teorema" fuori del letto (e della parete, e del tappeto, e del tavolo, e delle scale, e dell'ascensore, e della sedia, e del cesso... ) non ha nessuna pietà.
A copula conclusa ella svanisce, chiude quel segmento di esistenza e passa ad altri "casi": il figlio di lui, l'amico d'infanzia, vari ed eventuali. Donna viziosa? Femmina oltremodo generosa? In passato si era trovata a un niente dal "donarsi" al fratello (che, non potendola avere tutta per sé, si suicida tagliandosi polsi e gola, porello).
Si vuole far credere che questo rapporto tra un uomo posato che non ha mai vissuto e una giovane raffinata che ha vissuto fin troppo - così contorto, ah!; sofferto, eeeeh; lacerante, ahio! - possa essere non postmodernità quanto umana essenza; non mero vaneggiamento quanto mimesi del reale.
Mimo il gesto dell'ombrello.
Questa non è una historia de amor, de locura y de muerte bensì una presa per i fondelli.
Non c'è verosimiglianza, non c'è profondità, non c'è erotismo, assenti i sentimenti.
La distanza da un pornazzo è minima.
Suspence, questa sconosciuta: si scopre tutto subito. Binomio scopereccio inserito fra parentesi tonde all'interno di una espressione assai complessa. Lei è la schiava: rivoltata, ripassata e ricomposta come e meglio della cicorietta in padella.
Lui, esempio preclaro di homo politically correct, de repente si trova i lombi arsi dal fuoco della passione, è pronto a gettare alle ortiche carriera politica, matrimonio, prole, incurante del fatto che il suo figghiolo - bellissimo e intelligentissimo comme il faut - voglia sposare la conturbante donzella.
Sembrerebbe una storia a tinte molto forti. Si vorrebbe che lo fosse.
La serva, del tutto prona ai voleri del suo signore, parafrasando la famosa "Teorema" fuori del letto (e della parete, e del tappeto, e del tavolo, e delle scale, e dell'ascensore, e della sedia, e del cesso... ) non ha nessuna pietà.
A copula conclusa ella svanisce, chiude quel segmento di esistenza e passa ad altri "casi": il figlio di lui, l'amico d'infanzia, vari ed eventuali. Donna viziosa? Femmina oltremodo generosa? In passato si era trovata a un niente dal "donarsi" al fratello (che, non potendola avere tutta per sé, si suicida tagliandosi polsi e gola, porello).
Si vuole far credere che questo rapporto tra un uomo posato che non ha mai vissuto e una giovane raffinata che ha vissuto fin troppo - così contorto, ah!; sofferto, eeeeh; lacerante, ahio! - possa essere non postmodernità quanto umana essenza; non mero vaneggiamento quanto mimesi del reale.
Mimo il gesto dell'ombrello.
January 4, 2019
Anche mentre facevo a modo mio, avevo l'impressione di rispondere a uno dei suoi scopi. È così, con le forti personalità. Mentre facciamo di tutto per allontanarci da loro, abbiamo sempre l'impressione che l'acqua in cui nuotiamo non sia la nostra.
March 4, 2018
Leggere un libro di una donna che racconta il punto di vista emozionale di un uomo è stato coinvolgente. Già dalle prime pagine il pericolo è tangibile, la tragedia è dietro l’angolo. Il protagonista è un cinquantenne con una vita fatta di apparenza , una bella moglie , due meravigliosi figli , un lavoro e una carriera professionale meritevole. Ma nella sua esistenza manca la passione , un estraneo che ha vissuto solo per compiacere gli altri. Incontra una trentenne con un passato misterioso e irrisolto : un fratello morto suicida , amori sospesi e una grande libertà che trasuda maledizione. Ma Anna dovrebbe essere intoccabile, perché è la ragazza di suo figlio Martin . Si instaura tra loro un rapporto morboso che lo divora e lo consuma . Un’amore , una passione che porterà all’autodistruzione ed il prezzo da pagare sarà tremendo. Ma il “Danno “è fatto . Lo scrivere della Hart è incalzante , ci si immerge in questa palude per vedere cosa c’è dopo l’oblio , dopo questo irrefrenabile “danno “. “ Ho subito un danno . Le persone danneggiate sono pericolose sanno di poter sopravvivere “
January 31, 2013
Hart takes a banal subject (middle aged man drifting through life having an affair with his son's fiancee) and makes it quite compelling. This book has amazing tension. I kept finding myself holding my breath and the novel's climax was truly a surprise, one that made me gasp. Very fine read.
September 28, 2023
if you like this review, i now have website: www.michaelkamakana.com
230627: read his once again from mature perspective. twisted romance appeals like The Postman Always Rings Twice9768940]
030219 from 021111 from ??? 2000s: i have read this, thought i had put it on list, but no. so here it is and i can warn people off, unless you want to stay up late reading this wonderful and creepy and horrific and obsessive love affair... so yes, i remember this book quite well. i think a girlfriend gave it to me. sometimes a book is just a book, sometimes it is a quiet torpedo that hits without any warning. i am not now nor was i then, this respectable middle aged mp. then again, i (hope...) i have had only youthful relatively not as dangeous obsessions... nothing that threatens family and social life... i have never had such similar obsession… maybe someday... (hope?)...
230627: read his once again from mature perspective. twisted romance appeals like The Postman Always Rings Twice9768940]
030219 from 021111 from ??? 2000s: i have read this, thought i had put it on list, but no. so here it is and i can warn people off, unless you want to stay up late reading this wonderful and creepy and horrific and obsessive love affair... so yes, i remember this book quite well. i think a girlfriend gave it to me. sometimes a book is just a book, sometimes it is a quiet torpedo that hits without any warning. i am not now nor was i then, this respectable middle aged mp. then again, i (hope...) i have had only youthful relatively not as dangeous obsessions... nothing that threatens family and social life... i have never had such similar obsession… maybe someday... (hope?)...
May 10, 2023
This book is so heavily marked by fear of female perverted sexuality it's hard to believe it was written by a woman.
I think it is, to an extent, a document of the very early 90s and dark aspects of sexuality becoming explored in mainstream media.
I think it is, to an extent, a document of the very early 90s and dark aspects of sexuality becoming explored in mainstream media.
January 21, 2013
"C'è un paesaggio interiore, una geografia dell'anima; ne cerchiamo gli elementi per tutta la vita"
Bello nonostante la vaga sensazione di incompiutezza che lascia – e ben più complesso e coinvolgente della sua riduttiva e un po’ banale trasposizione cinematografica – il romanzo è pervaso in ogni pagina da un senso di angosciosa ineluttabilità, in un climax di tensione ed emozioni, che prepara e prelude alla tragedia finale.
La passione divorante che irrompe - non cercata, eppure inconsciamente attesa da sempre - nell’esistenza impeccabile e banalmente perfetta del protagonista, ne sconvolge dalle fondamenta l'edificio costruito sul terreno friabile di un'abile dissimulazione. Perché non si tratta soltanto dell’attrazione, sia pure ossessiva e irrefrenabile, nei confronti di una persona “proibita” e avvolta nel mistero, ma di un "ritorno a casa", del riconoscimento di un essere simile a sé con cui liberare, finalmente, pulsioni e desideri mai confessati e sempre ingabbiati nel carcere della mistificazione.
"Dominatore senza potere" dominato dalla sua schiava onnipotente, fin dall'inizio della relazione questo uomo non si fa illusioni: è lucido, razionale e perfettamente consapevole di stare precipitando in un abisso senza ritorno; tuttavia non esita a mettere in gioco tutto quanto ha di più caro, anche con la menzogna e l’inganno, anche con il rifiuto e l'abbandono, pur di seguire la sua natura segreta e il suo destino. Perché soltanto adesso si sente finalmente vivo.
Chi si aspettasse contenuti ad alto tasso erotico resterebbe però deluso, in quanto il tema predominante del racconto – contrariamente a quanto si potrebbe pensare – non è la storia di sesso, morte e disperazione vissuta dai due protagonisti, bensì quel “danno” che dà il titolo al romanzo.
La prosa lapidaria, essenziale e tagliente, adottata dalla scrittrice, se da un lato risulta intensamente evocativa ed efficace a scongiurare il rischio di ovvietà o cadute di buongusto, dall’altro lato sintetizza all’eccesso le parentesi descrittive, i resoconti degli eventi e la stessa caratterizzazione dei personaggi. In tal modo, l’impressione generale che si ricava è di insoddisfazione per il non detto, che non è neppure tratteggiato in sintesi, ma solo cripticamente suggerito per allusioni. In particolare è la figura di Anna che, a mio avviso, avrebbe richiesto un rilievo più marcato e incisivo. È lei la chiave di volta dell'intera vicenda, il perno intorno al quale ruota la sorte dei vari personaggi.
Ci sono persone che, pur non intenzionalmente, causano distruzione intorno a sé, annientando soprattutto chi le ama. Sono persone enigmatiche, affascinanti e pericolose, perché avanzano nel mondo illese, incuranti delle rovine che si lasciano alle spalle. Segnate da un passato doloroso, hanno già subito un "danno" e sanno che si può sopravvivere a qualunque sciagura ibernando il cuore come scudo alla sofferenza, perché loro lo hanno già fatto.
E il vuoto che lasciano è solo disperata infinita solitudine.
"Le storie di estasi sono storie infinite d’insuccessi. Perché arriva sempre la separazione. E ricomincia il viaggio verso l’essenziale, fuggevole unità."
Bello nonostante la vaga sensazione di incompiutezza che lascia – e ben più complesso e coinvolgente della sua riduttiva e un po’ banale trasposizione cinematografica – il romanzo è pervaso in ogni pagina da un senso di angosciosa ineluttabilità, in un climax di tensione ed emozioni, che prepara e prelude alla tragedia finale.
La passione divorante che irrompe - non cercata, eppure inconsciamente attesa da sempre - nell’esistenza impeccabile e banalmente perfetta del protagonista, ne sconvolge dalle fondamenta l'edificio costruito sul terreno friabile di un'abile dissimulazione. Perché non si tratta soltanto dell’attrazione, sia pure ossessiva e irrefrenabile, nei confronti di una persona “proibita” e avvolta nel mistero, ma di un "ritorno a casa", del riconoscimento di un essere simile a sé con cui liberare, finalmente, pulsioni e desideri mai confessati e sempre ingabbiati nel carcere della mistificazione.
"Dominatore senza potere" dominato dalla sua schiava onnipotente, fin dall'inizio della relazione questo uomo non si fa illusioni: è lucido, razionale e perfettamente consapevole di stare precipitando in un abisso senza ritorno; tuttavia non esita a mettere in gioco tutto quanto ha di più caro, anche con la menzogna e l’inganno, anche con il rifiuto e l'abbandono, pur di seguire la sua natura segreta e il suo destino. Perché soltanto adesso si sente finalmente vivo.
Chi si aspettasse contenuti ad alto tasso erotico resterebbe però deluso, in quanto il tema predominante del racconto – contrariamente a quanto si potrebbe pensare – non è la storia di sesso, morte e disperazione vissuta dai due protagonisti, bensì quel “danno” che dà il titolo al romanzo.
La prosa lapidaria, essenziale e tagliente, adottata dalla scrittrice, se da un lato risulta intensamente evocativa ed efficace a scongiurare il rischio di ovvietà o cadute di buongusto, dall’altro lato sintetizza all’eccesso le parentesi descrittive, i resoconti degli eventi e la stessa caratterizzazione dei personaggi. In tal modo, l’impressione generale che si ricava è di insoddisfazione per il non detto, che non è neppure tratteggiato in sintesi, ma solo cripticamente suggerito per allusioni. In particolare è la figura di Anna che, a mio avviso, avrebbe richiesto un rilievo più marcato e incisivo. È lei la chiave di volta dell'intera vicenda, il perno intorno al quale ruota la sorte dei vari personaggi.
Ci sono persone che, pur non intenzionalmente, causano distruzione intorno a sé, annientando soprattutto chi le ama. Sono persone enigmatiche, affascinanti e pericolose, perché avanzano nel mondo illese, incuranti delle rovine che si lasciano alle spalle. Segnate da un passato doloroso, hanno già subito un "danno" e sanno che si può sopravvivere a qualunque sciagura ibernando il cuore come scudo alla sofferenza, perché loro lo hanno già fatto.
E il vuoto che lasciano è solo disperata infinita solitudine.
"Le storie di estasi sono storie infinite d’insuccessi. Perché arriva sempre la separazione. E ricomincia il viaggio verso l’essenziale, fuggevole unità."
July 20, 2015
This book tries to shock you with such trite stuff that you feel sorry for it. It is supposedly poetic, but it is poetic only in the way for the people who do not have a good sense of poetry (like some pop songs might be appealing for tone-deaf people). It is a bondage/ fantasy book, which cannot accept this fact and it tries to act like something more literary.
It was laying there in the collection of my mom's summer books. I did not have any books to read with me and not knowing any of the authors, I picked this one because it was the thinnest; there is a lesson for you there my friend.
It was laying there in the collection of my mom's summer books. I did not have any books to read with me and not knowing any of the authors, I picked this one because it was the thinnest; there is a lesson for you there my friend.
November 9, 2017
A pagina 39 volevo quasi abbandonarlo mi faceva arrabbiare la scarsa credibilità di un rapporto, vada per il morboso, ma confezionato però sul vuoto pneumatico, poi si è reso più credibile quando ho ravvisato in esso un tentativo, credo vagamente incestuoso, da parte del padre di comprendere / dominare il figlio attraverso il possesso della di lui futura moglie.
Da qui in poi il libro ha preso una piega nera, nerissima che mi ha trascinato nel suo gorgo soffocante e in un pomeriggio l‘ho terminato, mi ha lasciato un senso di angoscia e di tristezza enorme.
Da qui in poi il libro ha preso una piega nera, nerissima che mi ha trascinato nel suo gorgo soffocante e in un pomeriggio l‘ho terminato, mi ha lasciato un senso di angoscia e di tristezza enorme.
July 18, 2016
Damage is a tale of desperate erotic obsession, and its inevitable path to destruction.
The narrative, told by the male protagonist, eminently respectable, and respected, cabinet minister Fleming, is clinical in its formality, in keeping with his social position. His life revolves around public service, and the care of his family and, at the heart of this seeming ‘order’ he is deeply unhappy.
This very formality, with its lack of true passion, has suffocated him, so that we have some understanding of his leap from empty order into consuming chaos, into the danger of an affair with his son’s fiancée, Anna.
The icy detachment of this narrative is a perfect foil to Fleming’s inner turmoil and the depth of his catastrophic infatuation. His spiralling descent is forever tempered by a façade of civility and order. Josephine Hart’s sparse, simple, even elegant language balances the fevered undercurrents of Fleming’s psychological state.
‘… my life would have been lost in contemplation of the emerging skeleton beneath my skin. It was as though a man’s bones broke through the face of the werewolf. Shining with humanity he stalked through his midnight life towards the first day.’
His affair with Anna is both an awakening and a dream-state, a loss of self to the intoxication of desire, and a finding of the self.
Fleming tells us: ‘I eased her gently to the floor. Leaving my elegant disguise on the sofa I became myself.’
We are left in no doubt that destruction is inevitable, that Fleming is at the precipice. There are no mitigating circumstances, and we know that there will be no happy ending, or forgiveness. What we see is a chillingly honest portrayal of sexual obsession, and our potential for destruction: lives damaged, or soon to be so.
Many will be familiar with the wonderful film of the same name, starring Jeremy Irons and Juliette Binoche, directed by Louis Malle, in which we witness more of the sexual nature of the affair. In her book, Hart does not describe sex at length, and yet we are left in no doubt that the acts are intense.
Fleming tells the reader: ‘We were made for other things. For needs that had to be answered day or night – sudden longings – a strange language of the body.’
They involve a degree of mild violence and of domination (there are references to slavedom, to being tied, and blindfolded, of Anna giving herself over to his will, of being physically ‘arranged’). These scenes leave us with a sense of the brutality of Fleming’s sexual desire, and of Anna’s desire to submit to it.
‘… there would be time for the pain and pleasure lust lends to love. Time for body lines and angles that provoke the astounded primitive to leap delighted from the civilised skin…There would be time for words obscene and dangerous. There would be time for flowers to put out the eyes and for silken softness to close the ears.’
This is a love story of sorts, as Fleming proclaims in the closing lines, but the journey is heartbreaking, unsettling, terrifying. It is a nightmare from which the protagonists cannot wake. We are shocked, horrified, even to the bitter close, but cannot look away.
Hart reminds us that, when tragedy strikes, as when Anna’s brother Aston kills himself ‘silence, separation and sadness… become a way of life’ trapping us ‘in the unresolved agonies of long ago’. In some part, this is offered as a reason for Anna’s detachment, but we are not invited to judge, only to witness.
We see Fleming acknowledge his folly, cruelty and deceit. He takes full responsibility, never attempting to apologize or make excuses. He is in the grip of what he knows will destroy him, and we abhor him for it. And yet, we see that he is powerless, just as Anna is powerless.
They are presented as equally culpable and yet, equally, without blame. They are damaged and are destined to destroy not only themselves but others.
At one point, Fleming asks Anna: ‘Who are you?’ and she replies: ‘I am what you desire…’ While Fleming fantasises about the possibility of leaving his wife and living with Anna, she realises that their relationship is outside of normal bounds and social conventions. It is only there that it can exist.
Josephine Hart achieves something rare in this novella: a helplessness that speaks deeply to the reader, a knowledge that, however sane and ordered our life, we carry our own destructive flame, the potential for our own acts of ‘damage’.
The narrative, told by the male protagonist, eminently respectable, and respected, cabinet minister Fleming, is clinical in its formality, in keeping with his social position. His life revolves around public service, and the care of his family and, at the heart of this seeming ‘order’ he is deeply unhappy.
This very formality, with its lack of true passion, has suffocated him, so that we have some understanding of his leap from empty order into consuming chaos, into the danger of an affair with his son’s fiancée, Anna.
The icy detachment of this narrative is a perfect foil to Fleming’s inner turmoil and the depth of his catastrophic infatuation. His spiralling descent is forever tempered by a façade of civility and order. Josephine Hart’s sparse, simple, even elegant language balances the fevered undercurrents of Fleming’s psychological state.
‘… my life would have been lost in contemplation of the emerging skeleton beneath my skin. It was as though a man’s bones broke through the face of the werewolf. Shining with humanity he stalked through his midnight life towards the first day.’
His affair with Anna is both an awakening and a dream-state, a loss of self to the intoxication of desire, and a finding of the self.
Fleming tells us: ‘I eased her gently to the floor. Leaving my elegant disguise on the sofa I became myself.’
We are left in no doubt that destruction is inevitable, that Fleming is at the precipice. There are no mitigating circumstances, and we know that there will be no happy ending, or forgiveness. What we see is a chillingly honest portrayal of sexual obsession, and our potential for destruction: lives damaged, or soon to be so.
Many will be familiar with the wonderful film of the same name, starring Jeremy Irons and Juliette Binoche, directed by Louis Malle, in which we witness more of the sexual nature of the affair. In her book, Hart does not describe sex at length, and yet we are left in no doubt that the acts are intense.
Fleming tells the reader: ‘We were made for other things. For needs that had to be answered day or night – sudden longings – a strange language of the body.’
They involve a degree of mild violence and of domination (there are references to slavedom, to being tied, and blindfolded, of Anna giving herself over to his will, of being physically ‘arranged’). These scenes leave us with a sense of the brutality of Fleming’s sexual desire, and of Anna’s desire to submit to it.
‘… there would be time for the pain and pleasure lust lends to love. Time for body lines and angles that provoke the astounded primitive to leap delighted from the civilised skin…There would be time for words obscene and dangerous. There would be time for flowers to put out the eyes and for silken softness to close the ears.’
This is a love story of sorts, as Fleming proclaims in the closing lines, but the journey is heartbreaking, unsettling, terrifying. It is a nightmare from which the protagonists cannot wake. We are shocked, horrified, even to the bitter close, but cannot look away.
Hart reminds us that, when tragedy strikes, as when Anna’s brother Aston kills himself ‘silence, separation and sadness… become a way of life’ trapping us ‘in the unresolved agonies of long ago’. In some part, this is offered as a reason for Anna’s detachment, but we are not invited to judge, only to witness.
We see Fleming acknowledge his folly, cruelty and deceit. He takes full responsibility, never attempting to apologize or make excuses. He is in the grip of what he knows will destroy him, and we abhor him for it. And yet, we see that he is powerless, just as Anna is powerless.
They are presented as equally culpable and yet, equally, without blame. They are damaged and are destined to destroy not only themselves but others.
At one point, Fleming asks Anna: ‘Who are you?’ and she replies: ‘I am what you desire…’ While Fleming fantasises about the possibility of leaving his wife and living with Anna, she realises that their relationship is outside of normal bounds and social conventions. It is only there that it can exist.
Josephine Hart achieves something rare in this novella: a helplessness that speaks deeply to the reader, a knowledge that, however sane and ordered our life, we carry our own destructive flame, the potential for our own acts of ‘damage’.
April 30, 2012
I bought this book in a library sale for 10p as a mistake, the blurb on the edition I have led me to believe this was a book about damaged people and "psychological darkness". Instead I ended up reading the most unbelievable, cliché characters, predictable basic storyline from the start and a whole lot of crap about sex and incest. What an appalling read and a complete waste of my time. The writing is in a constant "i-am-trying-to-create-suspense-and-mystery" style which fails completely.
-spoiler alert-
I couldn't believe that the author expected anyone to be able to be sucked in to such a ridiculous "story" - a 50 something year old man who trained at Cambridge to be a doctor and has a perfect wife and perfect children, one of which happens to study at Oxford, the other an artistic "english rose", he then has a perverted affair with his son's lover - who is supposed to be some ~mysterious~ character, and then lo and behold, his son sees them having sex and falls over a balcony and breaks his neck. Trash. Or just not my thing, whatever.
-spoiler alert-
I couldn't believe that the author expected anyone to be able to be sucked in to such a ridiculous "story" - a 50 something year old man who trained at Cambridge to be a doctor and has a perfect wife and perfect children, one of which happens to study at Oxford, the other an artistic "english rose", he then has a perverted affair with his son's lover - who is supposed to be some ~mysterious~ character, and then lo and behold, his son sees them having sex and falls over a balcony and breaks his neck. Trash. Or just not my thing, whatever.
May 22, 2017
3.5 stars - It was really good.
Tales of ecstasy are endless tales of failure. For always comes separation.
What an incredibly twisted, disturbing novel that was anything but enjoyable to read. Yet, I was fully engaged and even found it to be compelling in the back ½. The author certainly has a beautiful way with words and I would like to read something else by her that doesn’t have despicable main characters.
-------------------------------------------
Favorite Quote: Those who are lucky should hide. They should be grateful. They should hope the days of wrath will not visit their home. They should run to protect all that is theirs, and pity their neighbor when the horror strikes. But quietly, and from a distance.
First Sentences: There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for its outlines all our lives. Those who are lucky enough to find it, ease like water over a stone, on to its fluid contours, and are home.
Tales of ecstasy are endless tales of failure. For always comes separation.
What an incredibly twisted, disturbing novel that was anything but enjoyable to read. Yet, I was fully engaged and even found it to be compelling in the back ½. The author certainly has a beautiful way with words and I would like to read something else by her that doesn’t have despicable main characters.
-------------------------------------------
Favorite Quote: Those who are lucky should hide. They should be grateful. They should hope the days of wrath will not visit their home. They should run to protect all that is theirs, and pity their neighbor when the horror strikes. But quietly, and from a distance.
First Sentences: There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for its outlines all our lives. Those who are lucky enough to find it, ease like water over a stone, on to its fluid contours, and are home.
December 26, 2014
On the surface, Damage is about a middle-aged man who has an affair with a younger woman. Pretty standard dramatic fare, right? But wait--there's more. The younger woman in question happens to be his son's fiancée, and the man in question happens to be a member of Parliament.
There is much more at work here than mere lust, or even mere love. No, it is sexual obsession that dominates this story, an obsession so pervasive that it propels the narrator to unspeakable lows. It propels the narrative toward its tragic conclusion.
Still, it isn't dramatic excess that packs a punch in this story. It is an eerie and enduring emptiness. These characters are all, on various levels, devoid of humanity. The narrator has traipsed through a loveless fifty years of life, never once experiencing feelings of love or sexual passion until he meets Anna, his son's newest girlfriend. His wife, Ingrid, seems content with their passionless union and, together, they put on a good show in public. They are both façades.
Martyn has meandered from one relationship to the next with women who vaguely resemble his mother. Anna has dragged multiple men through her psychological mud in a vain attempt to escape her troubled past. Sally, the only remotely functional family member, remains fairly remote throughout the story. Her romantic relationship with Jonathan is the only functional one in the book. Her narrative distance from the rest of her family allows her to transcend their collective emptiness.
We experience this story through the detached eyes of a cold narrator, who engages in some logic-defying mental contortions to justify what he is doing. But there is no escaping the consequences of his disturbing romantic entanglement with Anna. He remains firmly rooted in the delusion that he has found true love, that he can have a domestic life with this young woman. He even assigns himself godlike powers of taking on others' negative feelings so that they can be free of them--all in the name of assuaging his own vague sense of guilt. At points, he even deflects blame from himself and onto the "devil."
The writing style lends itself to this inherent emptiness. Sentence fragments and long strains of simple sentences give the story an abrupt, staccato feel. The chapters are short; the story flits from one scene to the next quickly, leaving the reader with impressionistic shards of rising and falling action, rather than a fully realized narrative exploration. We are on a crash course with ruin from the moment we begin reading, and the story takes no detours on its way there.
(Disclaimer: I received a digital galley of this title from Open Road.)
There is much more at work here than mere lust, or even mere love. No, it is sexual obsession that dominates this story, an obsession so pervasive that it propels the narrator to unspeakable lows. It propels the narrative toward its tragic conclusion.
Still, it isn't dramatic excess that packs a punch in this story. It is an eerie and enduring emptiness. These characters are all, on various levels, devoid of humanity. The narrator has traipsed through a loveless fifty years of life, never once experiencing feelings of love or sexual passion until he meets Anna, his son's newest girlfriend. His wife, Ingrid, seems content with their passionless union and, together, they put on a good show in public. They are both façades.
Martyn has meandered from one relationship to the next with women who vaguely resemble his mother. Anna has dragged multiple men through her psychological mud in a vain attempt to escape her troubled past. Sally, the only remotely functional family member, remains fairly remote throughout the story. Her romantic relationship with Jonathan is the only functional one in the book. Her narrative distance from the rest of her family allows her to transcend their collective emptiness.
We experience this story through the detached eyes of a cold narrator, who engages in some logic-defying mental contortions to justify what he is doing. But there is no escaping the consequences of his disturbing romantic entanglement with Anna. He remains firmly rooted in the delusion that he has found true love, that he can have a domestic life with this young woman. He even assigns himself godlike powers of taking on others' negative feelings so that they can be free of them--all in the name of assuaging his own vague sense of guilt. At points, he even deflects blame from himself and onto the "devil."
The writing style lends itself to this inherent emptiness. Sentence fragments and long strains of simple sentences give the story an abrupt, staccato feel. The chapters are short; the story flits from one scene to the next quickly, leaving the reader with impressionistic shards of rising and falling action, rather than a fully realized narrative exploration. We are on a crash course with ruin from the moment we begin reading, and the story takes no detours on its way there.
(Disclaimer: I received a digital galley of this title from Open Road.)
June 11, 2012
Una trama all’apparenza semplice, un uomo di mezza eta’ con una famiglia perfetta, un lavoro perfetto, una posizione pubblica perfetta, insomma una vita perfetta e come tutte le cose troppo perfette destinata a crollare al primo soffio di vento; in realta’ e’ chiaro da subito che il protagonista vive incastrato consapevolmente nell’apparenza di una vita tranquilla, e infatti in quell’istante che puo' capitare a chiunque in cui deve decidere se restare nel suo piccolo angolo di mondo tranquillo ma vuoto o seguire il cuore e il turbinio di emozioni con tutti i rischi che comporta egli non esita nemmeno un istante, e’ come se dentro di se’ aspettasse quel momento da tempo e si fosse gia’ preparato.
E la razionalita’ e l’autocontrollo con cui ha vissuto fino a quel momento in un attimo lasciano il posto al puro istinto, alla passione, all’attrazione incontrollabile, a quell’amore che lo strappa alla monotona quotidianita’ attraversando senza rendersene conto il confine invisibile che porta all’ossessione.
Cio’ che disarma e’ il modo in cui e’ scritto il libro, e'come se il lettore seguisse due storie, quella dei fatti che si susseguono e un’altra piu’ profonda, quella interiore, introspettiva scritta con uno stile graffiante che ti coinvolge fin dall’inizio, con una capacita’ di scavare negli abissi piu’ profondi dell’animo umano che ti tiene incollato li’, con il fiato sospeso, a tratti sei gia’ consapevole di cosa succedera’ ma non puoi non sorprenderti di come l’inevitabile ti arrivi addosso in maniera inaspettata.
E poi c’e’ il danno, padrone di casa indiscusso, il danno che ha subito Anna nel suo passato, mai superato, che l’ha resa la persona di oggi e il danno che aleggia su tutti i personaggi come una nebbia fitta e che lascia le riflessioni scorrere fluidamente, le esperienze negative che ci segnano e, se non affrontate nel giusto modo, con il tempo cicatrizzano in superficie ma nel profondo continuano a tormentarci; i dolori del passato che non possono essere seppelliti senza prima farci i conti, devi prima trovarti faccia a faccia con loro, affrontarli e superarli e solo allora puoi rinchiuderli nel giusto cassetto della tua anima.
E la razionalita’ e l’autocontrollo con cui ha vissuto fino a quel momento in un attimo lasciano il posto al puro istinto, alla passione, all’attrazione incontrollabile, a quell’amore che lo strappa alla monotona quotidianita’ attraversando senza rendersene conto il confine invisibile che porta all’ossessione.
Cio’ che disarma e’ il modo in cui e’ scritto il libro, e'come se il lettore seguisse due storie, quella dei fatti che si susseguono e un’altra piu’ profonda, quella interiore, introspettiva scritta con uno stile graffiante che ti coinvolge fin dall’inizio, con una capacita’ di scavare negli abissi piu’ profondi dell’animo umano che ti tiene incollato li’, con il fiato sospeso, a tratti sei gia’ consapevole di cosa succedera’ ma non puoi non sorprenderti di come l’inevitabile ti arrivi addosso in maniera inaspettata.
E poi c’e’ il danno, padrone di casa indiscusso, il danno che ha subito Anna nel suo passato, mai superato, che l’ha resa la persona di oggi e il danno che aleggia su tutti i personaggi come una nebbia fitta e che lascia le riflessioni scorrere fluidamente, le esperienze negative che ci segnano e, se non affrontate nel giusto modo, con il tempo cicatrizzano in superficie ma nel profondo continuano a tormentarci; i dolori del passato che non possono essere seppelliti senza prima farci i conti, devi prima trovarti faccia a faccia con loro, affrontarli e superarli e solo allora puoi rinchiuderli nel giusto cassetto della tua anima.
October 31, 2014
Two stars according to Goodreads means it was okay (for me). Two stars for effort.
Although I have heard some say that the prose was easy to read, I found it to be the opposite. I had such trouble relating to her imagery that I had to read some sentences over and over again trying to understand the relevance of the words.
Here's an example:
...A glance turns into a threat. A challenge deep behind the eye or mouth, that only Anna or I could understand, led us on and on, intoxicated by the power to create our own magnificent universes."
A bit too much for me. Then suddenly, in the next paragraph we get a description of lovemaking, which comes out of the blue (there's no leading up to the scene itself). In fact, it's difficult to imagine the narrator is talking about sex:
"Sometimes her limbs locked, impossibly angled, as on a rack of my imagination, stoically she bore my weight."
Sexy - NOT. Rather, that line to me inspires abstinence.
Another:
"Anna had no delicate features that could be harmed by the brutality of kisses that must save a life."
Hugh?
But despite the author's propensity to fill paragraphs with artsy prose, whenever something dramatic happens (like a death), she rushes through it as if it were a banal event.
I have also read Hart's Sin and I find similar faults in that as well. One problem is Hart seems to be a poet aficionado (she has collected two anthologies of selections from famous poets) so perhaps she is a frustrated poet and that is the reason for her heavy-handed style.
And then there is the central love affair itself. There's absolutely no passion in its presentation, and we are at a loss as to why the male character would destructively involve himself with Anna, whose looks and personality are not portrayed effectively as anything special. Only that the first time he met her, he looked into her eyes and knew he was at one with her, or something of that nature. Give me a break!
In summary, I was disappointed.
Although I have heard some say that the prose was easy to read, I found it to be the opposite. I had such trouble relating to her imagery that I had to read some sentences over and over again trying to understand the relevance of the words.
Here's an example:
...A glance turns into a threat. A challenge deep behind the eye or mouth, that only Anna or I could understand, led us on and on, intoxicated by the power to create our own magnificent universes."
A bit too much for me. Then suddenly, in the next paragraph we get a description of lovemaking, which comes out of the blue (there's no leading up to the scene itself). In fact, it's difficult to imagine the narrator is talking about sex:
"Sometimes her limbs locked, impossibly angled, as on a rack of my imagination, stoically she bore my weight."
Sexy - NOT. Rather, that line to me inspires abstinence.
Another:
"Anna had no delicate features that could be harmed by the brutality of kisses that must save a life."
Hugh?
But despite the author's propensity to fill paragraphs with artsy prose, whenever something dramatic happens (like a death), she rushes through it as if it were a banal event.
I have also read Hart's Sin and I find similar faults in that as well. One problem is Hart seems to be a poet aficionado (she has collected two anthologies of selections from famous poets) so perhaps she is a frustrated poet and that is the reason for her heavy-handed style.
And then there is the central love affair itself. There's absolutely no passion in its presentation, and we are at a loss as to why the male character would destructively involve himself with Anna, whose looks and personality are not portrayed effectively as anything special. Only that the first time he met her, he looked into her eyes and knew he was at one with her, or something of that nature. Give me a break!
In summary, I was disappointed.
May 29, 2019
I had originally purchased 'Sin' by Josephine Hart and haven't actually read that yet. So it was probably foolish to then by 'Damage' simply because I liked the look of the cover...
Without me realising it at the time, 'Damage' was made into a very successful film in the 90s staring Jeremy Irons and Juliette Binoche, and I was glad to say I have already watched it and so remembered vague scenes from it.
The story of 'Damage' centres around a politician (we never know his name) who is married to a lovely woman and whose playboy son Martyn brings home a mysterious woman named Anna one day who no one can really work out or understand. This is unlike Martyn who usually has a different girl on his arm every week, but this time he is serious about her, and begins to drop hints to his family and sister that he is going to propose to her. The narrator's wife doesn't like her, but the narrator falls head over heels in love with her at first sight, and it's almost immediate that they both begin an affair which takes them as far as Paris. The affair is brief, passionate and everything they could both want, however until a dreadful tragedy hits a member of the family.
Hart's writing is gorgeous, and I sped through this book in one sitting, desperate to know more and more about the affair.
Without me realising it at the time, 'Damage' was made into a very successful film in the 90s staring Jeremy Irons and Juliette Binoche, and I was glad to say I have already watched it and so remembered vague scenes from it.
The story of 'Damage' centres around a politician (we never know his name) who is married to a lovely woman and whose playboy son Martyn brings home a mysterious woman named Anna one day who no one can really work out or understand. This is unlike Martyn who usually has a different girl on his arm every week, but this time he is serious about her, and begins to drop hints to his family and sister that he is going to propose to her. The narrator's wife doesn't like her, but the narrator falls head over heels in love with her at first sight, and it's almost immediate that they both begin an affair which takes them as far as Paris. The affair is brief, passionate and everything they could both want, however until a dreadful tragedy hits a member of the family.
Hart's writing is gorgeous, and I sped through this book in one sitting, desperate to know more and more about the affair.
July 6, 2011
It's hard to hate a novel written by a poet. Her language is sparse, focused, emotional. All the stuff that I love in words strung together. The book pulses on in short chapters. I'm about a quarter through, and I don't think the protagonist has a name yet. It's never mentioned. Interesting! You love him, you hate him, as he loves and hates himself from page to page. I'm hooked.
But, as a therapist, I'm having a hard time leaving my therapy-mind out of it, and diagnosing his bad thinking, behavior and lust in DSM-IV-TR terms. I can't read books about bad behavior without this permanent filter now, and that takes some of my former fun out of reading, but there you go.
If you love character driven plots, beautiful words, well thought out interior thinking, you'll love this. My only complaint is that occasionally can't tell who is speaking in longer dialogues, and have to repeatedly backtrack to figure it out. Yesterday, while reading, I did that and never did figure it out.
But, as a therapist, I'm having a hard time leaving my therapy-mind out of it, and diagnosing his bad thinking, behavior and lust in DSM-IV-TR terms. I can't read books about bad behavior without this permanent filter now, and that takes some of my former fun out of reading, but there you go.
If you love character driven plots, beautiful words, well thought out interior thinking, you'll love this. My only complaint is that occasionally can't tell who is speaking in longer dialogues, and have to repeatedly backtrack to figure it out. Yesterday, while reading, I did that and never did figure it out.
December 18, 2016
Dnf. There are many five star reviews for this book. I do not share that enthusiasm. I enthusiastically hated reading it, though.
There was not a single likeable character in this novel. They were all pond scum. I would honestly give it zero stars were it an option. Incredibly simple pretenious retelling of class wars with the most unerotic sex in recent memory with a dash of incest. This book attempts to shock... But it's just trite and poorly written with no memorable points. Months after reading I only remember how much I disliked the book.
I thoroughly and completely dislike this author's style, or perhaps, lack thereof. In one word: trash.
There was not a single likeable character in this novel. They were all pond scum. I would honestly give it zero stars were it an option. Incredibly simple pretenious retelling of class wars with the most unerotic sex in recent memory with a dash of incest. This book attempts to shock... But it's just trite and poorly written with no memorable points. Months after reading I only remember how much I disliked the book.
I thoroughly and completely dislike this author's style, or perhaps, lack thereof. In one word: trash.
May 28, 2011
A powerful, scaldingly erotic, shattering read about obsession and sexual doom. (And, yes--- Jeremy Irons was perfect as the hero in the film) "Damage" is quiet, chill, deeply disturbing and alluring in its austere prose--- a gripping tale of amour fou and a Dark Lady who's all the more frightening in her self-knowledge and gentleness. Very much a favourite.
January 25, 2022
3,5 ⭐
Die Geschichte einer Obsession - düster, tragisch und abgründig. Obwohl ich die Gedanken und Handlungen der Charaktere oft kaum nachvollziehen konnte, war es für mich doch ein sowohl faszinierendes als auch verstörenden Leseerlebnis.
Die Geschichte einer Obsession - düster, tragisch und abgründig. Obwohl ich die Gedanken und Handlungen der Charaktere oft kaum nachvollziehen konnte, war es für mich doch ein sowohl faszinierendes als auch verstörenden Leseerlebnis.
August 21, 2024
spretno, ali ne i izvanredno. ostavlja okus rizika, strave i užasa i kobnih posljedica od opasnosti prepuštanja erotskoj vezi sa srodnom dušom. uspješno kao minijaturna psihološka studija opsesije i požude (originalni naslov je "damage" i možda bi bilo sretnije rješenje da je prevedno u smislu "povrede, ozljede, štete"); gubitak kontrole može biti fatalan.
p. s. film louis mallea iz 1992., s jeremy ironsom i juliette binoche.
p. s. film louis mallea iz 1992., s jeremy ironsom i juliette binoche.
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